


These Things We Lose With Trust

by Mithrakana



Series: Everyone X Everyone: The Smut Experiment [1]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftercare, Betrayal, Epilogue, F/M, Interracial By Fantasy Standards, Not Canon Compliant, Paranoia, Prostitution, Sex Work, Trust Issues, mild bondage
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-27
Updated: 2015-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-23 17:01:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4884685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mithrakana/pseuds/Mithrakana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set two years after the defeat of Corypheus. </p><p>Written for the winner of my Tumblr raffle! I am a busy woman stealing time; posts will be irregular. <3</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Things We Lose With Trust

**Author's Note:**

  * For [3nn0ia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/3nn0ia/gifts).



_“Strength, control. These things we lose with trust – I mustn’t keep a confidant again._ Neslabet…We’re the Inquisition, and we care for you. Vivienne wasn’t _–_ ”

Her mind changed so suddenly he gasped. She spun on him, she seized his chin and jerked it up so hard he lost his hat. Her golden eyes burned backlit as she seethed into his face. Though Solas faintly scowled, he did not intervene. Cassandra set her jaw and held her tongue. The rumors of betrayal were vague, the context grave, and Neslabet most wrathful as of late.

**“Give tongue to my thoughts again, and _I will see you hanged.”_**

Cole gazed up into her fury, both surprised and unafraid. “I’m sorry. Your thoughts change faster than I hear them. You wanted _–_ ”

She released him so abruptly that he stumbled on his hat. Solas sent a quiet hand to steady him. As she walked away, Cole watched the sunlight glinting in the ruby-studded chains that hung from caps of filigree between her horns. She spoke with the utmost finality.

“What I want is none of your concern. You have been warned. Don't speak of it again.”

 

* * *

 

**_Two Years Later_ **

“It’s alright, Amanda. _Shh…_ You’re safe. He’s yelling at the shoreline, not at you. No one wants to hurt you. No, we won’t swim. We won’t. My belly’s funny too… _Bleck_.”

All politics aside, the Watchful Eye inked into Cole’s left arm still garnered favor from the people of Ferelden. The merchant granted passage with a booming laugh, he sent his daughter rushing from the ship to fetch Cole _‘cold ale and hot supper’_ for the trip. Minutes later when the ship began to move, young Christine held the stranger’s leathered elbow as he gripped the rails and wretched into the Waking Sea.

She was with Cole now beneath the deck, seated a safe distance from his fitful mount. (Dorian insisted from day one that Cole’s bay roan was an ugly beast, and that Amanda was an _awful_ name to give a horse.)

“You’ve never ridden on a ship before, Ser Cole?”

Cole looked up from shared misery, his cheek against Amanda’s downcast forehead. His soothing strokes along her face kept rhythm as he spoke. Though kind, Cole looked and sounded ill. “Just Cole, Christine, and no. I’ve seen the desert though, and snow. And trolls.”

“And _dragons!?_ ”

 _Shudder._ “Yes. You think you want to see one, but you don’t. They’re terrible. Too big, too full of ancient hate. …Well. The little ones just want to eat.”

"What's the Inquisitor like, Cole? Is it true she's really tall? And mean?"

"She's tall, yes, she's qunari. Taller than me. Her horns are lovely, and... Ah, no, she isn't mean. She's strong, that's not the same."

With that, Christine seemed content to sit and wonder. As he spoke and thought, Cole seemed less green.

The merchant vessel’s trip across the straight took hours. Mere hours, yes, but miserable ones. If Cole had waited two more days, or ridden further north to Highever, they’d be aboard a proper transport built for men and horses. Unfortunately for Amanda, Cole’s pulse was ever-rushing with the private thrill of his ambitions. Within an hour of their arrival in West Hill, the wicked man was coaxing his beloved mare aboard with honey in his palm.

As they passed between the Twins of Kirkwall, Cole whispered promises of home. Though still quite cross with him, Amanda’s ears twitched as she listened.

 _Home._ Cole fancied home a bit of hearth fire singing in his chest, just between his lungs. Though it ached, it kept him warm. Home called him to a place, a person. Home made him feel more human, and Cole liked that very much. Even now, seasick and crammed into a cargo hold beside his spooky mare, home burned so brightly that Cole couldn’t help but smile.


End file.
